Magic. People scoff at its existence. But magic becomes all too real for Max Turner. After the gruesome murder of his best friend, Priscilla's, parents she disappears. Six months later, Max is attacked by a man he's never met, who demands he tell him where Priscilla is. After coming to his rescue, Priscilla releases the magic stored within Max, completely unaware of what he can do.

"Well, if you hear anything else, be sure to let us know alright?" The police officer asked, pulling his blue cap down over his eyes to show respect. I just nodded to him, feigning a smile. I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone.

A month ago, a girl named Priscilla Kenry vanished from the face of the earth. How was this my problem? Priscilla had been my best friend for years on end, since we were in diapers. We had done everything together. Rode bikes, searched for buried treasure, homework, you name it. Absolutely anything. Of course, things had changed a bit once we both hit puberty. Priscilla was turning into a woman, breasts and all, while I was on the slow track to becoming a man. Pimples, disproportionate figure, and a lanky body. All the things that a growing boy did not want.

I still remembered the day that everything changed. The day that set Priscilla down the road she was on now. The road that would only end in blood and pain. It was almost a year ago now. Priscilla and I were walking back from our respective clubs. I had baseball, she track and field. We took the same way home seeing as her house was right next to mine. I couldn't think of a day we hadn't walked home together.

"Can you believe this project? I mean, doesn't that old fart understand we have LIVES outside of school?! I can't spend all my time working on a ten page essay for a class I don't even care about! It's moronic!" She ranted, brown hair flowing around behind her as she did. I just stared, nodding when it seemed appropriate. That was just what you did with Priscilla. You didn't argue. You just agreed and let her talk herself out of breath.

"Okay, enough about me. I feel like I've been talking foreeeever! How was your day?"

"It was alright. Slept through English, as per usual. I'm beginning to think that Mr. Wickett just doesn't care about what I do."

"That's because you don't DO anything!"

"Your point?"

"Whatever. Let's just get some coffee an-" Her words stuck in her throat as we drew up to her house. The metal gate outside had been knocked off its hinges, muddy foot prints leading up to the from door. The door itself looked like it had been melted down, nothing but a white puddle of goop on the ground. We stepped inside, over the remnants of the door. A bookcase was on its side, a hole burned clean through it, the pages of whatever books had been on it strewn around the room. The glass cabinet had shattered, covering the hallway with shards that crunched under our feet as we walked. Priscilla seemed unusually calm during the whole situation, now that I looked back on it. I was having a panic attack.

She motioned for us to walk to the kitchen, so we did. A few steps down the hall and we were there, stepping over a broken door this time. One piece was still hanging off the hinges while the rest of it was stuck in the opposite wall. The tile floor was scorched and all the cabinets seemed to have erupted outwards, decorating the floor with an assortment of condiments, pots, and pans. I grabbed a frying pan, holding it up like a club as we moved to the next room.

I will never forget what I saw in there. Priscilla's parents were strung up to the wall with chains wrapped around their necks and arms. Their bodies were covered with horrible burns, almost all the skin charred off their skin, their eye sockets empty, liquified. The remains of them had run down their cheeks, dripping onto the floor along with their blood. Priscilla had dropped to her knees, screaming.

Her younger brother was nowhere to be found. It was deemed that he had been kidnapped and, after three months, most likely dead. The police had stopped looking.

Priscilla had been left alone after her parents died. She had no relatives that could take her in, so my mother took the high road. She told Priscilla to live with us.

That had worked out for the first little while. Priscilla was never the same though. She wasn't loud like she used to be. She quit track and field. Every day she went to her parents' grave right after school, then didn't come back till it was dark. Of course I was worried about her, but no matter what I did, the girl just didn't want to listen to me. She wouldn't even acknowledge my existence.

After about six months things started to get weird. Priscilla would sit around all day in class, at lunch, and after school reading a book. I could never get close enough to see what the book was seeing as, whenever I was within five feet, she would snap it shut and shove it back in her bag. I was always curious but, eventually, I just gave up. There was no point.

Then one day she disappeared. Just up and vanished. She left for school in the morning, bag and all, but never got there. She was deemed a missing person, like her brother, but people have just stopped looking. They've chalked it up to a child running away from a horrible life.

I closed the door behind the police officer, sighing to myself. My mom was on the couch, sobbing her eyes out like usual. That one police officer, Officer March, had kept up his monthly visits. For some reason he was expecting Priscilla to contact us. She never had before, why would she now?

"I'm going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?" I asked, but I knew she wouldn't answer. After waiting about ten seconds to be polite I opened the door and left, shoving my hands into my pockets as I walked down the street, stomach growling the whole time.

Thank God there was a McDonald's close to my house. I went inside, bought my standard McChicken meal to go, then left. I couldn't leave my mom alone by herself for too long.

"Do you know Priscilla Kenry?" I sighed. Stopped. Turned around. The voice came from a man standing at the corner of the street, munching down on a pack of fries. His hair was covered by what looked like an old steam worker's cap, but from his voice he couldn't be older than thirty. His body was built too thick for an elderly man as well. He didn't slouch. "Yeah kid, I'm talking to you."

"Sorry, my mom told me not to talk to strangers," I mumbled to him, turning my back as quick as I could. Something about this guy just screamed run as far away as you can.

His hand was on my shoulder in a second. Before I knew what was happening I was flipping through the air, landing with a thud on my back. Pain shot through me, all my breath leaving my body. His foot was on my chest, the heel of his combat boot digging into my ribs.

"I'm going to ask this again. Do you know Priscilla Ke-UGH!" He didn't get to finish his sentence. My fist was firmly implanted in his nether region, causing him to double over in pain. I shot up, slamming my shoulder into his nose on the way down, knocking him right onto the flat of his back. I took off at a sprint without even stopping to look at him.

From behind me I could hear what sounded like bones cracking and before I knew it, a massive weight barreled into my back. I fell arms first onto the street, scraping the skin off my elbows. Blood dripped from them as I turned myself over, pulling my leg back, ready to knock his teeth out.

I was staring into a pair of golden eyes. His hat had fallen off when he had run after me, and now I saw why he wore it. His eyes resembled a wolf's so closely, so full of malice and blood lust, I couldn't help but shake in fear.

"TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" He roared, spittle flying onto my face. His teeth were wolf like as well, menacing canines that looked like they could tear my throat out without even trying. His arms slammed my shoulders onto the ground, feet crushing down on my legs.

"I don't know!" I screamed, lashing around to try and break free, but he held strong. I couldn't move. He had me completely pinned.

"LIAR!" His hand blurred across my face, snapping my head to the side. Blood exploded inside my mouth, coating my tongue with a thick iron taste, the warm liquid dribbling down my throat. I started hacking, spitting upwards as I did, splattering his dark skin with blood. "TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!" He grabbed a fistful of my shirt, arm muscles bulging as he heaved me through the air. I hit a nearby wooden fence, it splintering before collapsing under my weight. I landed in the yard behind it, hacking uncontrollably, fighting for breath.

Spots coloured my vision as I clawed at the grass, trying to crawl away from him. I was up against a monster. Some sort of weird werewolf. There was no way I could win this. I had to run. I had to.

"God you look pathetic."

Flames soared over me, missing my back by almost a foot, but the heat coming off them was still unbearable. Sparks singed my clothes and cheeks, but that was nothing compared to what had just happened. That small amount of pain was almost a blessing. The man screamed from behind me, almost yipping in pain. I could hear him scuffle off behind something, of what I'm not sure.

The flames extinguished themselves within a few seconds, a pale knee resting on the ground next to me. "Max? Are you okay?" That voice..

Kneeling next to me was Priscilla Kenry, wearing her standard salmon tank top and jeans. Her long brown hair had been cropped short, practically a pixie cut now. She wore two black gloves over hands and her skin seemed like it had been scorched. Her eyes were still the same though. The gentle blue they had always been, before her parents had died. Something had happened to her.

She was back to normal again. She was my Priscilla again. I threw my arms around her before I had a chance to talk myself out of it, earning a startled yelp. Her body went rigid for a second, only a second, and then her arms were around my waist. "I'm back, Max.. Don't worry."

I wanted to collapse into her and cry right there, but something snapped me back to attention. The man from before was still alive and kicking, letting out a roar of anger from across the street. I turned quickly to see him running for us, gold eyes gleaming in the night.

"Priscilla, we've got to go! He's gonna kill us!"

"Please. He's small fry," And she stepped forward, holding her hand out in front of her. This wasn't the first time Priscilla had come to rescue, but that was with neighborhood bullies! This guy was a freak!

"Priscilla, please!" I shouted, but I was cut off by the howling of flames. The red hot tongues spewed from her outstretched hand, a jet of them shooting forward. The flames spread along the grass, igniting it and rose up into the air, creating a wall between us and him. I sat there, panting hard, staring at Priscilla's back. "How did you..?"

"I'm a Sorcerer. Now let's go." She grabbed my hand, lifting me up off the ground and we took off running.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.